| February 2001Means: "The finding of good
things accidentally"
I’ve listened to that album many, many times over the intervening years, on a variety of systems, and I still get that thrill each time I hear those opening notes announcing that first song. I also found that there were many other songs on Spanish Train that I came to love, such as "A Spaceman Came Traveling," "Just Another Poor Boy" and the amusing "Patricia The Stripper" to name but a few (actually, I love all the songs on the album, but as I’m not being recompensed by the word, I won’t take the time to name every one). I’ve bought many other albums by Chris De Burgh since then, as many as I could find, seen him live three times, and enjoy his music to this day. You may well be familiar with him for his hit songs of a few years ago "High On Emotion" and "Lady In Red" that were given a lot of airplay on most FM stations. I know, I know, but don’t let that dissuade you from seeking out his earlier work, as you may be as enthralled with him as I was.
However, once you reach 1984’s Man On The Line, and from then on, De Burgh’s work begins to take a turn for the worse. He started to hep up his music, trying to capture, I imagine, a younger, more rock-oriented audience. And while there are moments on any later De Burgh album that hearken back to his earlier work, you’ll have to be a real fan to sit through most of the music. But oh, those early albums! They are definitely worth searching out, although you’ll need to frequent used record shops to find them at this point. (I’d recommend you stay away from the CDs -- which are examples of early CD sound with all that it implies). Chris De Burgh’s music is one of those serendipitous discoveries that make being a music lover worthwhile. And what more can people like us ask? ...John Crossett GO BACK TO: |
Every music lover
has experienced serendipity at one time or another. Sometimes we find it on the radio,
sometimes at a friend’s home, occasionally at an audio dealer’s, or on rare
occasions via an audio writer. Wherever we find it, it usually brings us good to great
music that we might otherwise have never heard, music that becomes a part of us, seeping
into our souls, shaping who we are. My purpose in writing this column is twofold: to let
you in on my serendipitous discoveries in many varied fields (I’m extremely catholic
in my musical tastes, so this column will cover a multitude of styles and other related
topics), as well as to acquaint you with that music so that it may, in turn, bring a state
of serendipity to you.
For as long as I can remember, I’ve been
addicted to music. I listened to it constantly. I guess that’s what happens when you
grow up in a college town, two blocks from campus, in the late 1960s. Music was one, and
for many the only, means of expression during those turbulent times. It spoke to us about
our fears (the Vietnam war), our hopes (ending the war) and our outlook on the future
(peace and harmony). I listened, recorded and bought music at every opportunity. (And you
thought I enjoyed getting up early for that paper route. Nope -- but I did enjoy the money
it brought in for me with which to buy music.) The time I’m thinking about now was a
day when I was sitting in a friend’s car waiting for him to finish whatever it was he
was doing, listening to the Canadian FM station CHOM (the FM station back then) out
of Montreal. The DJ cues up this absolutely fabulous song, and, naturally, as I’m not
paying attention that closely to the beginning, I don’t catch the artist. It
didn’t, however, take long for me to start listening more attentively. The song was
being done in something of a singing story style (which, I was to learn latter was this
artist’s favored way with his tunes) and was telling the tale of a game of cards
between the devil and Jesus for human souls. The verse that got me was near the end of the
song-- "And far away in some recess, the Lord and the devil are now playing chess.
The devil still cheats and wins more souls, but, as for the Lord...well...he’s just
doing his best." For some reason I was captivated, so much so that I wouldn’t
let my friend start the car until the song was over. I tried to remember the words to the
song and asked my friends who the artist might have been, but no one seemed to recognize
him. So I ended up filing it away in the deeper recesses of my mind, where it lay
ruminating for a year.
Then one day about a year
later, I was hanging out at my favorite record store (the late, lamented, Upstairs Records
in Burlington, Vermont), as was my usual practice each day on my way home after high
school, when, as I was looking through the record bins (yeah, that was when all they sold
were real, live 12", 33 1/3, black vinyl records) this album cover attracted my
attention. (This, by the by, was a favorite way I picked out many of the albums I bought
back then. If the album cover was cool, the music invariably was also. But I
digress….) I picked up the album, called Spanish Train And Other Stories, by
Chris De Burgh, which had, on the back under the title of each song, some of the words of
the songs. And wouldn’t you know, the very first song, the title track, had those
very words that had so captivated me, and been fermenting in my head. I let out a whoop
that could probably have been heard on the busy street below and rushed the album to the
counter, where the owners (having made friends with them, they were always giving me
suggestions as to new music to try) were chuckling at my antics. I paid for the album and
literally ran all the way home to give it a listen. Serendipity! This was the album I had
been looking for. 
De Burgh is a
superb singer, songwriter and storyteller. (I’m saddened to say he now thinks of
himself as a rocker, to his eternal detriment.) He played both acoustic guitar and piano
well. While his early albums aren’t of audiophile quality, they were recorded by
A&M Records, before they sold out, so they are pretty good -- i.e., the
recording doesn’t get in the way of the music. I would recommend you start, as I did,
with Spanish Train And Other Stories, as it most readily captures the essence of De
Burgh the singer/songwriter/storyteller. Other albums that should not be missed, if you
find you like De Burgh, are: Crusader (with the title track, "The Devil’s
Eye" and "Carry On" being personal favorites), At The End Of A Perfect
Day (check out the sweet "In A Country Churchyard" and the
tug-at-the-heartstrings "If You Love Her Let Her Go"), Eastern Wind (an
eerie "The Traveler," a humorous "Record Company Bash" and
"Sailor"), The Getaway ("Don’t Pay The Ferryman" and
"Borderline"), and, last but not least, his debut album, Far Beyond These
Castle Walls ("Turning Round").